Tumbling Through the Stars
by Someone on the Street
Summary: FINISHED: While at work, Daphne encounters an interesting stranger. Fred isn't happy. Rated for later chapters. Please read and review!
1. Encounter

**Tumbling Through the Stars**

A story by Amanda Dressel

Author's Note: This is based off of a series I am working on, so Daphne's last name is O'Kelley instead of Blake. It will be explained in further chapters. I hope you enjoy this piece.

Disclaimer: Scooby-Doo and all related characters are copyrighted to Hanna Barbera.

Mike is copyrighted to Amanda Dressel and E. M. McGrath.

_Remember seeking moons rebirth  
Rains made mirrors of the earth  
The sun was just yellow energy  
It is a living promise land  
Even over fields of sand  
Seasons fill my mind and  
Cover me  
From bringing back  
More than a memory_

You'll be my vacation away from this place  
You know what I want  
Holding that cup,  
It's pouring over the sides  
Make me wanna spread my arms and fly

-Gavin DeGraw; _Chariot_

Creamy red locks obscured a fair-skinned face as the wind came in from the bay. Cool gusts blew the strands from Daphne O'Kelley's eyes as she slowly approached the doors of Studio Channel Six. She squinted her eyes as the wind dried them out, the pale blue orbs taking a scan over the landscape.

So far, she was the only one in the parking lot, the only sound being the rhythmic _tap-tap_ of her violet heels as she moved for the large steel double doors on the side of the building.

Despite the early hours, there was one other person on the grounds. Daphne turned as she heard the slam of a door and some rustling, scattered throughout those sounds was a small collection of clinks and shuffles, like those sounds made of metal tapping against another metal material. Upon craning her neck to investigate, the redheaded woman saw an unfamiliar figure exiting the gardening shed several yards off, near the curb of the parking lot.

As the early sun rose in the east, it spilled across the stranger's form as he carried some gardening equipment over to his worksite near the double doors. He was tall, at least six feet tall, with a medium build. A crimson mane of back-length hair flapped like a flag behind his head as it hung in a ponytail. Daphne shifted her eyes to his slender face, shaped with high cheekbones, a long, somewhat crooked nose, and a pair of emerald green eyes, shadowed by thick red brows as he set his tools down in the grass nearby. He kneeled down and began to sift through the soil with a pair of large, gloved hands.

Daphne watched him for a moment, having stopped short and not noticing her action. He watched him curiously, then shrugged.

_He's just buckling down for work, like everyone_, she thought as she approached the double doors. She halted near the edge of the sidewalk and began to look through her keys. The jingling caught the man's attention, and he looked up.

Daphne felt the presence of being watched, not that she was unfamiliar to it. In fact, she had grown accustomed to the feeling of being watched; her experience as a detective had trained her senses to pick up those feelings. But this wasn't a malevolent feeling being given. So, lowering her mental guard of ignoring such feelings, Daphne blinked and looked back at him. She smiled.

"Hello, I've never seen you around here before," she said in the tone of a warm, medium alto.

The red-haired man nodded. "Yeah, today's only my second day here. So you must be..?" His deep Irish lilt trailed off as he tried to search for the name.

"Daphne. Daphne O'Kelley," she replied, holding out her hand, "And you are?"

The stranger nodded to her and reached out, shaking her hand. "Mike. Mike Shamus O'Toolie. Nice to see a kind face around here."

"Seamus? That's my father's name," Daphne chortled, emitting a grin from her companion. "So… You sound like you're not from around here. More around the British Isles area, right?"

Mike again nodded. "Yes. I'm from Ireland. Have only been here a week."

"Really! I'm half Irish myself, second generation, actually. What part are you from?"

"Limerick."

"My family's from Killarney. Not too far away from where you're from."

"Small world, eh?" Mike chuckled.

"Yeah, it is," Daphne replied. "So, not to be nosey, but, what brings you to Michigan?"

Mike took a breath. "Well, I wanted to get out of my country for a little while. You know, to travel. That way I can have a story to tell one day."

Daphne nodded. "Yeah, traveling is a lot of fun."

"You travel?"

"Yeah, not to brag, but I've been all over the world. It really opens your eyes to new things."

Just then a distant rumble made Daphne and Mike turn their heads. Mike's eyes widened when he saw a large van rumble into the drive and park. It was splashed with outrageous patterns of orange and teal, and in blocky, red letters were the words _The Mystery Machine_.

A tall blonde man stepped out. His ivory jacket fluttered behind his stocky form, which resisted well against the still-going breezes. He leaned back into the vehicle and removed a small black camera bag. With a slam of the door, Fred Jones locked it up and started up the sidewalk.

"Daphne?" he asked, "Shouldn't you have already been in your office?"

"Oh, sorry, Fred," she replied sheepishly, rushing to unlock the door. She fumbled with the key a moment, having forgotten she was holding them. She eventually succeeded, and Fred pushed it open.

"Thanks, Daph." His eyes moved to Mike, and his blue eyes narrowed slightly, though he managed to hide his slight distaste of the thought of Daphne talking to another man. "Are you new?" he asked, feigning a grin.

Mike nodded. "New gardener, yes," came the short reply. The look he felt from Fred told the Irishman's subconscious that he should be tight-lipped.

"Fred Jones," the newcomer stated, gesturing to himself. "And you are?"

"Mike Shamus O'Toolie. Nice to meet you, Fred."

Fred smiled. "Well, it's good to see a new face around here. I hope you enjoy working here."

Mike nodded.

"Alright, Daphne. Let's get to work before anyone else shows up," Fred said.

"Yeah, we should get going before anyone else shows up," came her reply.

As Fred entered the door, Daphne stopped while in the process of putting her foot in the door. She turned to Mike and smiled. When Mike smiled back, he saw in her eyes a glint of sorrow; as if she were regretting her sudden departure.

"Sorry, Mike," she said, "I guess I lost track of time."

"It happens to all of us, Daphne," Mike replied.

"Hey, now. Would you like to come have lunch with me at noon? I'm on my break then."

Mike's eyes brightened. "That sounds great – where can we meet?"

"The break room. Maybe we can come outside and eat. I don't like being in that stuffy building all day."

"All right. I'll see you there. You should get to work before one of our superiors sees us!"

"Oh! Right," Daphne replied with a sheepish smile, "I'll see you at noon!"

"See you there!"

With that, Daphne left his side and trotted down the hallway. She heard Fred in the video editing room doing some tape playbacks of their latest mystery, grumbling every now and then if he had made a mistake. She passed by him and walked to the door of her office. The thought of noon weighed heavily on her mind.

_Please let the next few hours go by quick!_ she thought, unlocking the door and walking in.


	2. Hello Again

_In open fields of wild flowers,  
she breathes the air and flies away  
She thanks her Jesus for the daises and the roses  
in no simple language  
Someday she'll understand the meaning of it all  
He's more than the laughter or the stars in the heavens  
As close a heartbeat or a song on her lips  
Someday she'll trust Him and learn how to see Him  
Someday He'll call her and she will come running  
and fall in His arms and the tears will fall down and she'll pray,  
"I want to fall in love with You"_

_-Jars Of Clay; Love Song For A Savior_

When Daphne entered the lunch room at the strike of twelve, she spotted Mike browsing the vending machines. She stood beside him and dropped a few quarters into the soda machine. She chose her drink and tapped the button. It illuminated and a can of cream soda rolled into the narrow chute below her knees. She grabbed it and yanked the tab, and took a sip of the fizzy beverage. She watched whimsically as Mike was still deciding what he wanted.

"Picky eater?" she chuckled, digging out a few more bits of silver from her purse.

Mike turned his head. "Didn't hear ya, Daphne," he replied. He smirked and turned back to the machine. "No, I'm just having trouble deciding between the ham sandwich and the cheeseburger." He eyed the selections locked away on the shelves of the rotisserie vending machine.

"I'd go for the sandwich," Daphne replied, getting a brownie from a plate on the counter, "at least you can see through the wrapper and notice that the bread isn't moldy." She followed her statement with a soft smile as she sat down with her soda and an apple.

"Ah, what the heck. I'll take your advice," the red-haired man replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He dropped some change into the machine and slid open the compartment, grabbing his prize from the shelf. After purchasing a can of cola, Mike pulled up a chair across from his guest.

"So, did you have any trouble with the traffic?" Daphne joked, taking a bite of her apple.

"If you mean the small bunch rushing to the lunch room, then yes. I tried to stay behind them," he countered. Daphne arched a brow.

"You've got a good sense of humor there. I like that," she stated.

Mike swallowed a mouthful of his sandwich. "These days, you need to have one."

Daphne nodded, looking up when she heard a familiar voice. Mike followed her gaze as a short, bespectacled woman called Daphne's name from the doorway. Daphne smiled and waved her over.

The small woman came closer, and Mike could make out freckles dappling her round face. Her eyes were behind a pair of thick black frames, the wide pupils looking like dots, hidden by blue-tinted lenses. A heavy turtleneck sweater, a dark shade of orange, draped over her torso, billowing out at the base in the form of a maroon miniskirt. Stocky calves were wrapped in thick knee socks, also orange. Her small feet wore a pair of maroon Mary Janes. Ironic. The shade of her shoes and skirt were closely matched with her reddish-brunette hair, which she kept cut short to her chin in a neat bob cut.

"Jinkies! Hey, Daphne, who's your friend?" the woman inquired, looking towards Mike, who at the moment was mulling over the word "jinkies" with a slightly quizzical furrow on his brow.

"This is the new gardener, Mike," Daphne replied. "Mike, this is my friend, Velma Dinkley."

Mike smiled, extending a hand to shake the petite one Velma had offered. "Nice to meet you, Miss Dinkley. This is an awfully nice group here, I think I'll really like it here."

"I hope so," Velma chirped, sitting beside Daphne and snatching the older woman's brownie from the napkin it sat on. The redhead looked at her nonchalantly and scoffed. Velma already had a mouthful of the pastry in her mouth, a delighted smile on her lips.

"Thank you! You know I have a sweet tooth!" Velma said.

"Even if it means stealing from my plate?"

"What are friends for?"

"For telling you that next time you can walk to the counter?" Daphne asked, playfully bumping her shoulder against Velma's.

Mike laughed. "Alright, so now I know a TV reporter and a brownie thief. What else you got hidden?"

"A hippie and his dog," Daphne replied, putting her arm on the table as if to guard her half-eaten apple from Velma.

"Who?" Mike asked.

"Shaggy and Scooby. They're currently unemployed. We'll take you to meet them later," Velma stated. Mike nodded agreeably.

"Now, about the word 'jinkies'?" Mike asked, "What is that?"

Velma opened her mouth the speak, but then they heard another person approaching their table. They greeted Fred with hellos as he pulled up a chair and took a seat between Daphne and Mike.

"Hey, gang. What's up?" he asked. Despite his cheerful demeanor, the others detected a trace of irritancy in his voice.

"Nothing really. Just eating and deciphering the meaning of the word 'jinkies'," Velma replied sheepishly.

"Velma, I really don't think anyone will be able to figure that out," Fred replied flatly.

"One can dream," Daphne countered, leaning back.

"You're the Fred I met this morning, right?" Mike asked.

"That's me," Fred replied with a grin.

Mike ignored the blonde man's behavior and said, "Well, I'm glad to have met all of you. You're the first people I've associated with in America who weren't passport inspectors and flight attendants!"

"Oh, we know that feeling," Velma said. Mike raised his brows.

"Daphne told me that you travel?"

"Oh, yes. Daphne's godfather paid for us to go on all these trips, and along the way, we would usually encounter some type of mystery," Velma replied.

"Yeah, usually in the form of the supernatural," Daphne added.

"Who were all fakes," Fred finished.

"Alright. You've got my attention," Mike chuckled. "Care to tell me about one of these episodes?"


	3. New Meddler

_Now her daddy's in the kitchen - starin' out the window  
Scratchin' and a rackin' his brains  
How could 18 years just up and walk away  
Our little pony-tailed girl growed up to be a woman  
Now she's gone in the blink of an eye  
She left the suds in the bucket  
And the clothes hangin' out on the line_

_ -Sara Evans; Suds in the Bucket_

The Mystery Machine was slightly more crowded today; Fred, Velma, and Daphne sat in their usual spots in the front seat, and in the back was where Shaggy and Scooby-Doo took up residence, along with their new guest, Mike.

"Like, so you're from Ireland?" Shaggy asked, looking up from the Go Fish game he was playing with his Great Dane, "Like, are the potatoes better over there than over here?" Mike arched a brow, unsure of how to answer such a random question.

Velma turned in her seat to face them. "Don't worry, he's always like that," she reassured.

"So I gathered," Mike murmured, watching the lithe man beside him pull several sandwiches from the cooler that sat in the corner. As Shaggy's back was turned to collect two cans of soda, Mike watched in silence as the dog snatched a few – or more than half – of the sandwiches, gulping them down in a few bites. Scooby hiccupped when Shaggy turned back around. Upon seeing half of the food items gone, Shaggy shot the Dane an exasperated look. Scooby replied with a solitary hiccup.

"Alright," Mike stated, "Time for me to ask you a question."

"Like, fire away, man."

"Do you own a dog or a garbage disposal?"

Scooby crossed his forearms and yipped out a "Humph!" – he even stiffened his lower lip to add to the aloof expression on his face. Mike laughed.

"Aw, c'mon it's a joke, Scoob," Shaggy chortled.

Scooby looked over at Mike, still maintaining a somewhat stuck-up manner. Daphne noticed and reached into the glove box, pulling out a small plastic baggie. She tossed it to Mike, who promptly caught it.

"What's this?" he asked.

Daphne grinned. "Scooby Snacks. He loves those things."

"Like, so do I!" Shaggy interjected, emitting a few low grumbles from his cohorts. Mike chuckled and took a Snack from the bag.

"Hey, Scooby. I'm sorry about calling you a garbage disposal. I want to apologize," he said, holding up the Snack. Mike's eyes went wide as the treat disappeared before he had finished his statement. Scooby sat in front of him, chewing contentedly.

"I think you're forgiven," Velma joked, emitting laughs from the others.

Fred stopped the van in front of a somewhat worn-down building. It was one story, with large, blocky letters spelling out the words MALT SHOP above the main entrance. The blonde man called out, "Alright, gang, we're here!"

Shaggy and Scooby bolted from the back doors and skidded on the sidewalk as they scrambled frantically into the front doors. Mike followed them at a walk, hopping out and shutting the doors, all the while shaking his head and laughing to himself. Fred, Velma, and Daphne flanked his side a moment later.

"You'll like it here," Daphne said.

Velma nodded. "Best malt shop in town."

Fred elbowed her. "It's the _only_ malt shop in town."

"Enough with the chit-chat, let's get inside before Shaggy and Scooby eat the place out of business," Daphne interrupted, smiling inwardly as she walked up to the main entrance.

"Eat them out of business? In one sitting? That sounds impossible!" Mike told the redhead as he followed Fred and Velma inside. Daphne's expression turned flat as she countered, "Believe me, they are capable of doing so. If myself and the others weren't there they would've victimized this joint long ago." Mike laughed and walked beside her through the door. They neared the gang's usual table.

Daphne smacked her hand to her forehead when she saw Shaggy and Scooby having a staring contest, whilst between them sat a monstrous dish of various flavors of ice cream. "Oy!" she groaned. Velma scooted back and allowed Mike and Daphne room to sit down. Mike looked away, acting as if he didn't notice Fred's intent stare.

They were handed menus shortly. While they browsed the collection of choices, Fred journeyed to the newspaper rack and returned with a copy of the daily newspaper. He pulled it open and proceeded to read the cover story. In the meantime, Velma and Daphne had ordered, and the waitress was waiting for Mike to make up his mind.

"Hmm," he mused, "How about a mint chocolate chip malt, please?" he said, handing the menu to her with a smile. She jotted it down onto her tablet.

"Great choice, sir." The waitress looked over at Fred. "How about you?"

Fred looked up. "Chocolate malt, please. And don't hold off on the gummy bears." Velma and Daphne rolled their eyes. The waitress nodded and walked into the kitchen.

"So, what's the headline?" Daphne asked.

"What a surprise. The title goes: _Mysterious Creature Haunts Abandoned Warehous_e"

"Why!" Shaggy whined, "Every time we go someplace nice for the day!"

"Strange coincidence?" Daphne answered with a slight shrug.

"Whether it's a "strange coincidence" or not," Fred declared, looking squarely at Mike for the moment, "Mystery Inc. is going to investigate that warehouse."

"When?" Shaggy asked, clinging to his dog and shivering. Scooby was replicating his owner's actions by clinging to him in return and whimpering.

"Tonight, so we can catch our creature in action," Fred replied.

Velma nodded. "No crook, or monster for that matter, would want to be seen in broad daylight."

"Alright, so let me get this straight," Mike said, "We are going to an abandoned warehouse at night, to look for a monster?" Daphne nodded.

"Yeah, it's hardly ever a real monster, just a guy in a costume. It's kind of a hobby of ours. But we are still aware of the danger, so we always take precautions."

"Okay, then. May I come with?" he asked.

"Like, yeah! He can go and I'll stay with Scooby!" Shaggy whimpered. The hulking canine nodded in agreement.

"After all the years we've been doing this, you're still petrified of going on these mysteries?" Velma grumbled.

"Like, call it a natural reflex."

"Right," Fred implied, "But for now, we'll just call it cowardice."

"Like, okay, okay, we'll go. Mainly because I've run out of witty comebacks."

Shaggy grinned, and they all shared a laugh. At that moment their orders had arrived: a mint malt for Mike, strawberry for Daphne, chocolate for Velma, and chocolate topped with gummy bears for Fred. Shaggy and Scooby had ordered another heaping pile of ice cream.

"I wouldn't eat that too fast, Shag," Velma said, watching the skinny man devour the dessert.

"Other wise you'll get-" Mike started, but was cut off by Shaggy and Scooby yelping as they chattered their teeth uncontrollably.

"A brain freeze," Daphne ended, trailing off.


	4. First Outing

_My mother said there's only one way_

_Sweet angel boy, narrow and straight_

_Time it has past, teachings they fade_

_Now her angel boy has gone astray_

_I've felt the hand of the Devil, felt his breath on my skin_

_Dip me into the water, wash me again_

_Can I still be forgiven for all of these things?_

_Or have I gone too far now?_

_Have I lost my wings?_

_-Tim McGraw; Angel Boy_

"Alright, this is definitely something I hadn't had on my mind of doing in my lifetime!" Mike said, looking around at the widened abyss of darkness that enveloped himself and the others. He aimed his flashlight in various parts of the darkness, seeing nothing but space and millions of tiny specks of dust fluttering in the pale yellow beam of light that projected from the bulb.

A low moan filled the room and the hair on the back of Fred's neck pricked. All six members of the mediocre detective team instantly put their backs together; a pair of eyes piercing every direction, assisted with the illumination of the flashlights each person held in their hand.

Scooby's hackles rose, instantly erecting his stubby ears. He whined and pointed into his direction with a trembling paw, using the other to tug at Shaggy's pant leg. The enormous dog started to quiver, his eyes going wide.

"Like, what is it, Scoob?" Shaggy asked, looking down at his canine cohort.

Scooby hopped onto all feet in a pointer-esque pose, one of his forepaws pointed squarely to the front of his stiffened body. He held the pose for all but two seconds before falling face-first onto the concrete with a grumble.

"Scoob? What – Zoinks!"

The others turned reluctantly from their posts to see what the matter was. And no sooner than they did, the five humans let out a collection of screams and yells of fear at the thing before them.

Scooby peeled his muzzle from the concrete and looked up to see a pair of gleaming green orbs hovering over him. He regretted it. He pinned his ears as his jaw dropped to the floor. His fur turned from tawny to pure white in a matter of seconds; even his distinct black patches vanished. The Great Dane leapt a few feet into the air with a howl of terror, landing heavily in Shaggy's arms, both of them trembling uncontrollably.

The lanky young beatnik had in the process dropped his flashlight, sending it hurtling to the ground, where it landed with a clatter that echoed throughout the warehouse. It spun several times before it fell upon their culprit.

A deafening roar filled everyone's eardrums as a towering zombie stood before them. It raised its arms and roared again, exposing half-rotted teeth and bulging its eyes, which seemed to stare into nothing. Tattered rags of clothing hung loosely over pale grey skin that wrinkled and flexed with the zombie's every movement.

"Split up!" Fred shouted, as he and Velma took off into the darkness, at that moment, all lights went out. The others took the cue and took off as well, their footsteps padding all over the span of the building.

With a roar, the zombie took off after a set of rapidly falling feet. Reaching out, the monster grabbed something long and fuzzy. It waggled wildly in his grip. The zombie gave it a sharp yank, and a deafening yelp rang out.

Another set of feet approached from the side. A body collided with the zombie, sending all three of them tumbling. They crashed into a far wall, and all sound came to a halt as they all laid still.

Bright beams of light appeared, falling in the direction of the path. There, Fred, Velma, Daphne, and Shaggy found the zombie hunched against the wall, groaning. Around his torso was a spare tire. Beside him in a sprawled position was Mike, who cringed when the light hit him. And all the while, Scooby's tail had remained in the zombie's hand, with Scooby himself flat on his stomach.

"Well, we thank you guys again for your exceptional detective work," the chief of police bellowed proudly, shaking Scooby's paw. The dog's tail wagged, although it was wrapped in a bandage and would be sore for a few days.

"So, what's the story behind this?" an officer asked, holding up the zombie mask and gesturing to the disgruntled man in handcuffs.

"It's quite simple, really," Fred started, "Your culprit is Thomas Herrigan, the son of this warehouse's former owner, Franklin Herrigan."

"When Franklin died, the family couldn't afford to keep the warehouse, so the government bought it. That's what we concluded when we found the deed in Thomas' office earlier today."

"Like, yeah, because when we went up there, there was a sign that said 'Property of Government – No Trespassing'." He supported his statement by pointing to the sign, which was nailed to a nearby fir tree.

"To make a long story short," Daphne added, "Thomas wanted to take the property back for his family. So he stole the deed from the federal office and dressed up as a zombie to frighten everyone off with the myth of his dead father."

"Exactly. This scheme revolved around his claim that his father was enraged at the government's possession of his warehouse, and he wouldn't rest until it was handed back over to the Herrigan family," Velma concluded.

"Now, why would he want an old warehouse?" the officer countered, arching a thick brow.

"It's simple," Mike replied. "Land value. This property must be worth thousands, with all the space and lumber."

The chief grinned, seeming satisfied with that answer. They forced Thomas Herrigan into the squad car, but before they closed the door, he blurted, "I would've gotten away with it, if it wasn't for that meddling Irishman and his dog!" With that, the door slammed, and the police left the grounds.

Mike looked perplexed when the others burst out laughing. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"Like, you just got mentioned in a 'meddling kids' tagline!" Shaggy chuckled.

"It's almost customary for the villains we catch always say something along that line. I have no idea if it's a running gag with them, or just a horribly annoying curse," Velma added.

"But, you got _yourself_ mentioned in it, instead of us as a group of meddlers. You should be honored!" Daphne added, elbowing him.

"Alright, if you say so. I'm honored, then!" Mike replied, chiming into the laughter and hugging Daphne around the shoulders as they all walked back to the Mystery Machine, Scooby bounding beside them.

Seeing the scene with Mike and Daphne made Fred's eyes narrow. He ground his teeth a little but sighed, regaining his composure and joining the others in the van. He placed the key in the ignition and turned it; listening as the engine roared to life. Headlights flashed on, piercing the foggy cloud that draped through the trees. All sound of crickets and frogs in the marshes were overpowered by the sound of the hulking vehicle as it rumbled down the dirt road, and exited the property.


	5. I Appreciate

_Am I more than you bargained for yet  
I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear  
Cause that's just who I am this week  
Lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum  
I'm just a notch in your bedpost  
But you're just a line in a song  
Drop a heart, break a name  
We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team  
We're going down, down in an earlier round  
And Sugar, we're going down swinging  
I'll be your number one with a bullet  
A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it_

_-Fall Out Boy; Sugar, We're Going Down_

Daphne yawned as she entered her office the next morning. It was still very early and the woman was aware that, save for the janitors, she was most likely the only person in the building. She hadn't seen Mike working on the gardens, and for some reason she became slightly worried.

She tossed her purse onto a nearby guest chair, and flopped down behind her desk. Folding her arms on the table, Daphne yawned widely and rested her chin on them, shutting her eyes to catch a few missed winks of sleep.

Soft creaks from ahead of her interrupted her light slumber a moment later. Daphne opened one eye lazily, letting out a tired grunt in response to her distaste of having been awakened.

"I see that you're still recovering from last night?" came a deep, rolling Irish brogue. Daphne feigned a tiny smile and sat up straight.

"G'morning, Mike," she replied, yawning again.

Mike pulled up a chair and sat down across from her. "I guess I'm right?"

Daphne nodded and cleared her throat.

"I admit, I'm a little drowsy myself," he replied, allowing a hint of tiredness to creep into his voice for a moment. He quickly brought his expression back up to a smile, and he reached into his jacket.

Daphne blinked, watching him intently. As she did so, Mike's hand removed itself from the jacket to reveal a blooming daffodil. He held the yellow blossom to Daphne, who gingerly accepted his gift. She held it to her nose and inhaled the scent.

"That was sweet of you, Mike. Thank you, I really appreciate it." She placed the comical flower into a glass of water she had left on her desk the previous night.

"You're welcome. I thought you'd like to see how the new spring flowers are coming out, so I picked the biggest one for you," Mike stated.

The redheaded woman shot him a curious gaze. With a blink, she allowed her lips to melt into a smile. She leaned towards the flower and inhaled the scent.

"Wonderful. Your gardening skills show, Mike."

Mike nodded his head slightly. "Thank you, Daphne." He rose to his feet and cleared his throat. He held out his arm. "May I walk you to the sound stage? You'll be on any time now."

Daphne walked around her desk and looped her arm around his, her hand resting atop his wrist. The pair took their time meandering to the curtain, chatting and laughing with each other the entire way.

They reached the edge of the stage and Daphne separated herself from Mike as one of the key grip specialists jogged towards her, a small bundle of twisted black cords jumbling up in his palms. Daphne gingerly accepted the package, untwisting the cords and hooking the tip of it to her lapel and adjusting the speaker on the tip, whilst at the same time pinned the small battery pack to the back of her skirt. She pulled out a few more kinks and tapped the speaker a few times with her finger, delighted when she heard the soft patting noise from the effect.

"Good luck," Mike told her, nodding and turning to go.

"Hey, you. When the show's over, maybe you could come by my office? Of course, if you're not busy."

"Here's hoping I finish early, then!" Mike said with a wide smirk. He pivoted on one foot and pushed off the ground, sending him in a barreling run down the center of the hallway.

Daphne felt her face flushing a little. She hadn't the slightest idea why. Before she knew it, she had to swallow a butterfly that was attempting to escape her stomach.

Rapid footsteps approached the red-haired gardener from behind at lunch hour. Before he could speak, he felt a sudden mass of weight land hard onto his back. Slender arms wrapped around his neck and lighter crimson locks mixed with his own as he heard Daphne's soft chortle ringing in his ear. The aroma of lavender drifted into his nasal passages and the pair of arms encircling his neck hugged slightly tighter.

"I know it's you, Daphne," Mike laughed, turning to face her. Daphne's shoulders slackened only slightly as she relaxed herself.

"You got me, you-" Daphne stopped herself short when her weight started pulling them downward.

"Hey, wait!" Mike gasped, his feet going out beneath him. His heels left the tile and they crumpled to the floor in seconds.

Daphne's mouth dropped open as she felt the cold surface of the floor grinding against her spine upon impact. She saw stars before her eyes, flickering in the abyss of the fluorescent lights of the ceiling. She coughed and inhaled for the first time in several seconds; at the same time her heartbeat began to return to normal.

"Mike, I'm sorry! You okay?" she yelped, lifting her head. She saw Mike in plain sight, his weight on top of her lower torso. His head was nestled against her stomach, and she sighed with relief as he groaned, placing a hand on his forehead. He turned to face her, and blinked a few times.

"That was a hell of a fall," he finally spoke, then smiled. "Are you alright?"

She only nodded, smiling sheepishly.

The Irishman returned the gesture. "Now, what were you saying a moment ago?"

Daphne cleared her throat. "I was going to say that you got me, you meddling kid."

"And it was all because Dangerprone Daphne did it again."

"Who told you that?"

"Fred and Velma."

"Damn them."

The two of them shared an open laugh, allowing it to echo in the empty break room.


	6. Television Glow

_I have dreamt of a place for you and I  
No one knows who we are there  
All I want is to give my life only to you  
I've dreamt so long I cannot dream anymore  
Let's run away, I'll take you there_

We're leaving here tonight  
There's no need to tell anyone  
They'd only hold us down  
So by the mornings light  
We'll be half way to anywhere  
Where no one needs a reason

Forget this life  
Come with me  
Don't look back you're safe now  
Unlock your heart  
Drop your guard  
No one's left to stop you

_-Evanescence; Anywhere_

"So, how was work today? Did you see your boyfriend?" Velma teased, elbowing Daphne in the ribs while she was in the process of grabbing a soda from the fridge.

The red-haired woman scowled playfully. "B-Boyfriend? Of course not. I mean, yes, I saw him at work, but no, he's not my boyfriend," came her stuttered retort to the bespectacled woman's query.

"Aw, c'mon, Daph. I see that look in your eyes," Velma continued.

"Alright!" Daphne roared, making Velma take a few steps back, wide-eyed. In her stumbling, Velma bumped a spare can of unopened soda to the floor, where it clattered for a few seconds. Velma kept her eyes on Daphne, not seeming to notice the incident.

Daphne held her angered expression a moment, as if savoring the quiet revenge she was getting for Velma's prodding at the issue. The moment passed and Daphne slumped her shoulders and looked down. She pursed her lips and twiddled her thumbs thoughtfully.

"Daph?" Velma asked, still a smidge nervous.

"Alright, you got me, Velma. I think he's hot," Daphne said meekly, a hint of color seeping into her cheeks.

Velma's mouth hung open, then she slapped her knee as a hearty laugh escaped her vocal cords.

"I knew it!" Velma exclaimed. "You like him!"

Daphne's eyebrows arched dangerously as she bent down and picked up the temporarily forgotten soda can. She plucked at the tab a couple of times with a fingernail as she held it in Velma's direction.

The younger woman's pupils dilated as Daphne's index finger hooked under the tab. She grinned sheepishly.

"Make another smart-ass remark, Einstein," Daphne teased.

"Uh… Jinkies?" Velma said, her voice squeaking. She backed up, Daphne slowly tracing over her steps. Finding the threshold to the living room, Velma took off laughing.

"You can run, but you can't hide!" Daphne called after her playfully. Her only reply was high-pitched giggles echoing off the halls in the living room. Daphne set the unopened can onto the counter. As she did so, the phone rang, nearly startling the purple-clad woman. She gripped the receiver and placed it to her ear.

"Hello?" she chirped, pouring a bag of chips into a bowl.

"Is..Is this Daphne?" a familiar male voice replied. The distortion the phone receiver still made the voice somewhat unrecognizable.

"Well, yes, this is her."

"Oh! Daphne! This is Mike!"

Daphne felt her face getting red. "Oh! Hey, Mike. What's up?"

"Like, Daph, hurry with the chips!" Shaggy called from his spot on the couch.

"Yeah, the movie's starting!" Fred called, not allowing the risk of Velma taking his seat in the armchair.

The credits of the film started to roll over the screen, accompanied by ominous music. Scooby leaped into the pile of throw pillows on the couch, causing the tiny cushions to erupt in every direction. Several murmurs of irritancy and dismay came from his three human companions.

"Rorry," Scooby stated solemnly, then laid down t watch the movie.

"Anything going on?" Daphne asked Mike.

"No, not really. How about you?"

"We're having movie night over here. The gang's in the living room."

"What's playing?"

"I think it's called 28 Days Later. Fred picked it out. Guess it's about a virus that turns people into zombies. Say, would you like to join us?"

"Is that alright?"

"Of course it is!"

"Okay, then! Where do you live?"

"My house is on the corner of 58th and North Street."

"Okay, I'm a few blocks from North. I'll be able to follow it out there."

"Alright, Mike. See you in a few minutes."

"Okay. See you soon."

The two of them hung up. Daphne resumed her kitchen chores, including dishing various snacks like pretzels and potato chips into bowls, grabbing some plates for the take-out pizza, and even mixing a platter of candies to satisfy Velma's sweet tooth.

Daphne jumped slightly as several bright red images splashed across the menu screen of the DVD. It nearly caused her to drop some of her baggage, as the gory imagery was accompanied by split-second sound clips of shrieks and roars.

"Holy hell!" Fred laughed, "I can tell this is going to be good."

Velma scooted closer to him absentmindedly. "Looks like a white-knuckle picture," she observed as her blonde companion nodded in agreement.

Shaggy reached into one of the bowls before Daphne had set them on the coffee table. The red-haired woman gently slapped his hand.

"Now, now, save some for the last guest, Shaggy," she scolded.

Fred and Velma turned around. "Last guest?" they asked in at the same time.

"Like, who's that?" Shaggy quipped.

"I invited Mike over," Daphne replied. Scooby picked up a sense of dreaminess floating in her eyes, a look that she had managed to keep hidden from the rest of the humans, but the hulking canine could sense it without having to see it.

Fred's eyes narrowed. Velma glanced at him as he stated, "You two have become fast friends."

"Yes. Nothing wrong with that," Daphne replied, her eyes locking with his.

Fred opened his mouth to speak, the sighed. "Ah, okay Daphne. When'll he get here?" He tried to sound somewhat cheerful, but the others still tasted the aroma of disgust in his voice as he said it.

Scooby's ears pricked when he heard the sound of tires crunching gravel in the doorway outside. The flicker of headlights on the windows flashed out, and the Great Dane slid across the floor to the front door. He barked as the sound of knocking entered everyone's ears.

Daphne went to the door and grabbed Scooby's collar. She gradually pulled him away from the door as she pulled it open. Scooby's tail wagged, sensing an air of warmth about the woman holding his collar and the man who stood in the doorway.

"C-Come in, Mike," Daphne stammered, standing aside and letting go of the collar. Scooby trotted back to the living room.

"Like, okay, our guest is here! Let's eat!" Shaggy exclaimed, as he and Scooby leapt for the goodies on the coffee table. Fred and Velma instinctively backed away as the edible spray of confetti flew through the air.

"Oh, dear," Daphne mumbled, upon seeing the incident.

Mike only chuckled. "It's alright. I'll help you clean it up afterwards if you'd like." This only feigned a smile from Daphne as they walked into the living room. As Shaggy and Scooby gorged themselves full of snacks, Fred and Velma reclined side by side on the couch. They were joined by Daphne and Mike.

"Alright! Movie time!" Velma announced, hitting the PLAY button on the remote control. With that, _28 Days Later_ came to life on the television screen.

Throughout the picture, there were plenty of jumps and gasps from the gang. Velma clasped to Fred, who didn't seem to mind the attention and tried to keep calm during the film, although at times he got startled and would flinch. The glutton duo by the snack table had cleared the bowls of their contents, and was watching the screen with wide eyes, trembling in terror. Like Velma, Daphne was also slightly disturbed by some of the gorier images, and would find herself leaning close to Mike, who, like Fred, was trying to put on a mask of confidence to hide the inner fear that the horror flick was inducing.

Fred turned his head to see Mike patting Daphne's shoulder, chuckling at her disturbance to the film. He wanted to growl, but only clenched his teeth and turned away.

"Like, what a freaky flick!" Shaggy whimpered.

"R'is it r'over?" Scooby whimpered, lifting a paw from his eyes. He sighed with relief when he saw credits rolling.

"What a mess," Velma glowered, examining the particles of food all over the rug.

Shaggy and Scooby shrugged sheepishly.

"I'll clean it up tomorrow. No worries," Daphne stated, standing up.

"Okay, then," Fred replied, glancing a moment at Mike, who had also risen to his feet to stretch his legs.

"Whoa! It's pretty late. In fact, it's almost 1 in the morning!" Velma exclaimed, staring at the clock.

"Yikes. We should be going, Daphne," Fred added, grabbing his jacket.

"Like, yeah, us too. You know, still job hunting," Shaggy said as Scooby nodded.

Daphne walked them to the door. They all exchanged good nights and watched as they piled into the Mystery Machine and rumbled away. She turned to see Mike standing near the entrance to the living room.

"I had a good time, Daphne," the Irishman inquired, walking with Daphne to the pantry. She handed him a broom and dustpan.

"I'm glad. So did I," she told him, trying to hide the dreamy gaze. Little did she know, that Mike was trying to do the same.

Mike swept up the array of crumbs while Daphne gathered dishes and cleaned the table. Afterwards, they flopped back onto the couch.

"I don't want to get up. Too tired," Daphne giggled, leaning into him. Her eyelids drooped as she heard Mike's lulling brogue whisper, "Then sleep. I'll keep watch," in her ear. Many voices went off in the woman's mind, even a red flag or two. Maybe they were right. Or maybe they were just nervous – because that's exactly what she was feeling as she snuggled closer. She didn't know what was making her do it, but it just felt right to her – and to him. Mike draped an arm over her back. Daphne's eyes slid closed, and she drifted into a content slumber.

A warm smile passed over Mike's features. He stayed where he was, not wanting to awaken Daphne nestled in the crook of his arm. It just felt perfect.

He looked quietly over the silent structure of the house and Daphne nuzzled closer; as if it was the emptiness of the house that was making her cold. He subconsciously held her closer.

Mike sighed, and brushing a few strands of hair from her forehead with his fingers, leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the forehead before falling into dreams himself.


	7. Prosecuted

_So, here we are  
That's pretty far  
When you think of where we've been  
No going back  
I'm fading out  
All that has faded me within  
You're by my side  
Now everything's fine  
I can't believe_

_You found me  
When no one else was lookin'  
How did you know just where I would be?  
Yeah, you broke through  
All of my confusion  
The ups and the downs  
And you still didn't leave  
I guess that you saw what nobody could see  
You found me  
You found me_

_And I was hiding  
'Til you came along  
And showed me where I belong  
You found me  
You found me  
When no one else was lookin'  
How did you know?  
How did you know?_

_-Kelly Clarkson; You Found Me_

The slight rumble of the pavement was absorbed into the treads of the Mystery Machine, shaking the main frame slightly as it took occasional dips into a pothole in the cement.

The tooth-rattlers annoyed Fred a great deal as he kept his eyes on the deserted road. He had managed to avert the van away from most of the potholes, but cursed to himself when a tire would catch one that his eyes had missed. It wasn't a total loss for the blonde man; the Mystery Machine was a sturdy vehicle; it would recover from the sharp dips with a slight tremble and a whirr of the engine.

Fred's blue eyes scanned the roadways as he came to a stop sign. To the left, no cars. To the right, no cars. Fred wondered why he even bothered to put on the turn signal if there was nobody behind him. He yawned widely and looked at the digital clock on the dashboard – no wonder the roads were deserted – it was only 7 am. Even though Fred realized this, he still felt half of his body asleep in bed. With a nudge of the gas pedal, the van turned the corner.

A soft amount of pressure on the brake signaled the Mystery Machine to slow down as it turned onto a narrow street. All the lights in the houses were still off, only a handful of people outside, most of which were either driving to work or searching for the daily paper wearing a robe and bunny slippers. The van was signaled to slow even more and finally halt outside of familiar house.

Fred's brows arched a little as he exhaled a deep breath through his nose. Why wasn't Daphne outside waiting for him? Her record of punctuality was scarred this morning, for she had never been late for her ride to the studio. For a moment he fixated his gaze on the two-story lavender home, and then it shifted to the two cars in the driveway. One of them was Daphne's emerald green Mustang (which she rarely drove due to soaring gas prices), but the golden Ford Taurus at his side he didn't register right away.

His mind temporarily searched its memory bank and images of the previous night's events played through his mind. He merely blinked when he realized that the unfamiliar vehicle belonged to Mike. The blonde man racked his brain, fighting the urge to storm into the house and give the gardener a piece of his mind, but his level-headedness came into play at that moment, settling his thoughts into an uneasy silence. Instead, Fred just honked the horn.

The distant cries of the horn invaded Daphne's dreams. She grunted and forced her eyes open as she lifted her head from Mike's chest. The fading of her body heat disturbed her companion, and in seconds he too was struggling to wake up.

"Mike? What time is it?" Daphne asked.

Mike drowsily looked at his wristwatch, and he sat bolt upright. "Bloody hell! It's 7:15!"

"Damn it!" Daphne exclaimed upon hearing the Mystery Machine's honking outside, "We're going to be late!"

In a flash, Daphne retreated to the restroom and applied fresh eye liner, brushing her long lashes with a light coat of mascara. She pulled a brush to even out her rumpled hair, and changed into a clean change of clothes. Mike found it surprising that she had done this in less than two minutes. Outside, Fred was still honking the horn. Snatching her purse and keys, Daphne declared, "I'll meet you at the studio!"

Fred watched as Daphne ushered Mike out the door. Without a second thought, the Irishman ran to his car and ducked inside. The engine of the Taurus roared to life, while at the same time, Daphne locked the front door and ran to the side of the Mystery Machine. As she practically leapt into the passenger seat and buckled in, the redhead caught out of the corner of her eye, the scowl on Fred's face.

"Fred," Daphne sighed, a soft crack in her voice. She cleared her throat to awaken her vocal cords. She felt a twinge of uneasiness in the air as Fred started to drive.

"Daphne, I saw how you two were behaving out there." Disgust smothered his tone.

"We were late! We fell asleep on the couch and you woke us up, thank God!"

"Oh, really!" Fred mocked.

Daphne scoffed, gritting her teeth. "Stop being so goddamn overprotective!"

"Daphne, he could be dangerous!"

"Well, I've been in plenty of danger, haven't I?"

Fred paused. "But, there's always been someone to pull you back." The last statement was slightly stammered.

"There've been times where nobody was there. I may not be perfect, but I'm capable of handling myself. If I need your help, I'll ask first, and if I get myself in trouble, then I'll get myself out."

"You won't know you're getting into trouble, Daphne – for all we know, Mike could be some type of serial rapist."

"Fred, you're getting ahead of yourself."

"No, Daphne – you're just not thinking straight! This guy could be dangerous."

"Fred, please," Daphne sighed, slumping her shoulders, "Not now. Just…let's leave this for after work."

"Fine," Fred growled, continuing to drive.

"Fine," came a more muted response, as Daphne turned her eyes from the driver's side and looked out the window. She slumped into the seat and her form went still.

Fred wanted to say more to her, but could tell from her body language that she was in no mood for speaking to him. Had he attempted to speak, he was afraid that she might have gone postal on him. He wanted to tell her that she was being foolish, even stupid, but Fred only shook his head. They continued the drive to the studio in a tense silence.


	8. Please Understand

_I'm finding myself at a loss for words  
And the funny thing is it's okay  
The last thing I need is to be heard  
But to hear what You would say _

I'm finding myself in the midst of You  
Beyond the music, beyond the noise  
All that I need is to be with You  
And in the quiet hear Your voice

_-Kristin Chenoweth; Word of God Speak_

The night had started to chill intensively as the clouds of the past evening began to drift away, removing the warming cover and allowing the heat of the day to rise, only to vanish above the faint disc of the moon. Small shimmers that dappled the sky; they seemed to look more like glitter than stars. A midnight breeze disturbed the trees, making them shiver and sway. The breeze carried into the neighborhoods outside the city, failing to even make the houses react.

The breeze stopped as it was blocked out of Mike's house by a sturdy bedroom window. There, the gust dispersed into nothing, having only made a gentle prattling sound against the pane.

The noise failed to awaken him, however. In fact, he was too busy tossing and turning, clearly under influence of a dream. Not an ordinary dream, but one that came back all too often. And one that never ceased to make the gardener shed tears.

_The 15 year old buy knelt in the brush, staying low in small clump of ferns, his hunting rifle clutched to his side. His hands were still unsteady; he had only been hunting a few times, and was still finding himself in the process of learning. At least, the teenager thought, if he didn't bag anything for dinner, surely his older brother would. With the last thought, he ducked lower and crept ever so slowly; he had to tread carefully, the slight snap of a twig would alarm any nearby game of the ambush._

_Indeed, the older of the two was more experienced. Not far from his sibling, he stalked more smoothly between the towering pines; the dense shadows on the ground served almost as well for a disguise as the camouflage vests that they wore. Both teenagers had their eyes set on the same prey._

_In a well-lit clearing, a doe raised her dainty head, ears erect. They swiveled as her nose sniffed the air. Wide brown eyes shot frantically around; the doe heard a rustle in the surrounding trees, but its direct source was unclear. _

_The older brother cocked his rifle as he took aim, placing his thumb on the hammer. The tip of his thumb pressed down too fast, and a startling 'click!' echoed into the air._

_With a snort, the doe backed up a few paces, nostrils flared. With a stumbled pivot on her hooves, she sprang into the air, darting away from the sound._

_"Oh, no!" cried the older, clutching the rifle. Although instincts told him better, he stood up and re-aimed._

_The younger sibling stood as well, taking three shots, all missed, at the quarry. He watched, disappointed, as their prey vanished into the wall of trees. He cursed himself for not taking action sooner._

_He was still on the alert as he resumed his place on his knees. He needed some time to think about what had happened. They would have to find a new place to wait, probably for hours. By then, it would surely be dark, and he and his brother both realized that the risks of getting lost in the fog were high._

_A rustle sounded right behind him. Still in battle mode, the teenager twisted his torso and aimed, shooting the intruder at close range. BANG!_

_A thud. A cough, followed by a choking sputter. As the smoke cleared, the young man saw his own brother laying in front of him, a chunk of flesh blown from the side of his neck. Blood spilled all over his limp form._

_The younger sibling's heart leapt into his throat. "Aaron!" _

_But the call came too late._

Mike sat upright in bed, sweat pouring down his face. Despite the sweat, he shivered violently as he looked around, almost swearing that he was still in the dream forest. He noticed that hot streams of tears had begun to leak from his eyes, and instead of wiping them away, he just let them come.

"I'm so sorry, Aaron," Mike whispered to his brother.

"Mike?" Daphne asked as she approached him in the garden later that morning. The breeze chilled her to the bone, and she pulled her jacket tightly around herself, but all she could feel at this moment was her worry for Mike.

He lifted his head and looked at her. His green eyes, usually a brilliant emerald, were dulled in the washes of sorrow. Daphne sensed. She flanked his side and squatted beside him. "Mike," she murmured, but he looked away.

_Oh, no. Was it something I did?_ Daphne immediately thought. She gently nudged him. "Look, Mike, if I was too pushy last night, I-"

He turned to face her again and shook his head. "No, no. It's not you, it's… something personal."

Daphne felt a light sense of relief; but focused all her attention on what Mike seemed to be hiding.

"If you want, you can tell me. I'm your friend, Mike. You can trust me."

Mike stared at his gloved hands, caked with dirt inside the flowerbed. With a sigh, he lowered his brows and thought a moment. Many voices began to scream inside of his head, this was tearing him up inside, all these feelings! He just had to tell someone.

_But, if she found out,_ he thought, _would she hate me?_

"Daphne, if I tell you this, I hope you will understand. Please don't make any crazy decisions based on what I'm going to tell you. Okay?" Daphne could detect a quiver in his voice.

"Look, if you want to talk somewhere more private, it's alright. That way it's only between you and me."

Mike nodded. "I'd feel more comfortable with that. Thank you, Daphne."

Daphne stood and waited patiently. Mike removed his gloves and placed them inside the metal toolbox nearby. He followed suit and rose to his feet, then proceeded to follow Daphne.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"My office. The only way anyone can get in is if I let them."

The two of them journeyed down the open hallway, their footsteps echoing off the walls. But, besides theirs, they heard another set coming towards them from the opposite end of the hallway. As two distant figures appeared in the dim light, Daphne smiled thinly.

"Hello, Charlene," Daphne said cheerily, despite her current upset over Mike's situation.

The tall blonde woman smiled back. "Morning, Daphne." The locks of light gold framed a thin face, and then cascaded down to the woman's waist. A pair of blue-gray eyes sparkled shyly from behind a few stray hairs. A smile embossed her lips.

"What are you doing here? Stage setup doesn't begin for a few more hours."

"Well, I got up early so I could show Cody around."

"Cody?"

The tall figure behind Charlene came into sight. He was tall, about as tall as Mike. His ebony hair was short on top, and then gradually formed into longer tresses that graced his broad shoulders, save for some stray hairs that stuck up. High cheekbones were ornamented with a layer of scruffy facial hair, that traced down his jawbone and gathered in a small clump of a goatee below his bottom lip. He blinked his blue eyes a couple of times, and nodded to the strangers.

"This place is pretty neat," he said, putting an arm around Charlene's shoulders. "Never been inside a TV studio – just seen the stuff that comes out of them." The two women chuckled softly.

Charlene looked at her watch. "Oh! We'll be late for breakfast!"

Cody nudged her gently outside. "Then let's get going! That dessert tray won't be in the buffet too long, you know!"

Charlene's eyes widened. "Dessert tray?"

Cody bit his lip. "Uh oh."

Before he could register the situation, Charlene had gripped his hand and was steadily leading him down the hall. He stumbled for a few steps, but regained his balance. With a chuckle, he gained his stride beside her and said, "Hey, now, not without me!"

Charlene turned and waved to Daphne.

"See you at work!" she called.

Daphne chuckled and waved back. "Don't have too much fun!"

Giggles from the women erupted briefly, before Charlene and Cody had exited the studio.

Mike smiled softly, but remained silent. Daphne's smile faded as she looked at him. Touching his arm, she said "C'mon. My office isn't too far. This way."

Daphne and Mike reached a tan steel door, with a small window cut into it. On the blurred glass was a set of white, blocky letters that read: DAPHNE O'KELLEY. She slid the key into the lock and turned it. As the latch released, Daphne pushed the door open and stepped aside.

"Let's talk," she said softly.

Mike sat across from Daphne at her desk, his head hung. "That's what happened. And I have that dream very frequently. Daphne, it's not my fault, but, it still hurts." He feared her reply. He flinched as she felt Daphne's slender fingers wrap around his atop the desk. He raised his eyes to meet hers.

"Mike, it's okay. It was an accident. I'm sorry about your loss, but, at least you won't be grieving alone."

At that moment, Mike stood from his chair. Daphne parroted his movements and watched intently as he moved around the corner of the desk to stand in front of her. His eyes were still sorrowful as they stared into hers.

Daphne allowed her arms to fall open. Mike allowed a tear to escape his eye before her fell into them, sobbing openly. Daphne gasped a little, clutching him tightly and rubbing his back. The only things she said were the occasional soothes of "hush" and "shh". Mike obliged and nuzzled his face into her shoulder.

"I'm here, Mike."


	9. A Graceful Fall

_Everyday keeps on repeating like the record on replay  
Slowly getting off the bus with Johnny waiting at the gates  
Like a friend smiling and waving and called him out his name  
Put his arm around his neck what's up now gimme all your change  
Too afraid to make a scene or plead with him to let him go  
He just takes whatever's coming, feels the pain with every blow  
Tries in vain to make himself be heard as soon as he gets home  
But everything's still the same..._

(But didn't you say) You always said that I should speak up  
But it seems like all the things you said to me before mean nothing at all  
Because...

I keep telling you that Johnny's hitting me  
That's why I'm late for school (but you never listen)  
Instead you always seem to end up blaming me for things I didn't do (For what it's worth)  
I didn't even want to tell you anything incase it made things worse (Just so you know)  
Every time I say that Johnny's hitting me  
Hey Mom and Dad it hurts

_Craig David; Johnny _

Silence reigned through the damp corridor. The rain tapped the roof relentlessly, its chaotic rhythm being the only sound that bounced off of the slowly aging concrete slabs. The breezes that wafted by were colder than usual this afternoon.

Scooby led his four human companions through the maze; occasionally one of them would find a small dip in the floor or stumble over a prominent crack, but onward they moved.

Fred held a lantern up and surveyed the area with keen eyes. The yellow glow from the bulb was the only source of light, it seemed, for miles. The mist was so thick that not even the strong beams were unable to fully penetrate it. Instead, the light seemed to filter into the damp fog, then disintegrate and blend into it.

"Everyone stays together," Fred said in a low tone, wanting to avoid an echo at all costs. "Got it?" The other four only nodded in union to the decision.

Velma removed her glasses and wiped away the fog that was clinging to them. "Jinkies," she muttered, "I wish these things came with wipers." She subconsciously dropped behind Shaggy a few paces to walk beside Fred.

Daphne hadn't decided upon a place in line for herself; she found more comfort in staying fairly separate from the group, breaking off every now and then to investigate any suspicions that had entered her thoughts.

Scooby put his muzzle to the ground and started to sniff near a puddle. Fred stepped up beside the Dane and asked, "What did you find, Scoob?"

The canine grunted and replied, "Raint! R'loo raint!"

"Like, blue paint?" Shaggy asked.

"Great work!" Velma praised, reaching into her pocket and taking a Snack from a plastic baggie. Scooby said nothing in return, only swallowed the reward in a single lick. He smacked his lips and grinned. The moment of levity was contrasted seconds later when the fur on his neck and back raised. Scooby turned his head, and so did the others, when a ringing whir of machinery started up down the corridor.

"Like, I hate to state the obvious, but.." Shaggy began.

"Just run!" Velma declared.

Everyone simply complied, and bolted down the hallway.

Daphne kept stride with Shaggy, which for most of the time was impossible. Her eyes darted everywhere as they ran, all the while hearing the sound of a roaring engine coming closer behind them. They were merely prey to this monster, and they were all beginning to exhaust. She looked around, her eyes watering from the cold air biting her corneas.

Salvation at last when the redhead caught a narrow crevice between two slabs of wall. She grabbed Shaggy by the arm and tugged, practically hurling him in the direction of the crevice. She ignored the beatnik's protests of dismay, and only darted towards it herself.

"Hey! An escape route!" Fred declared, wrapping an arm around Velma's wait and hoisting her up in one single motion. The action emitted a small whoop of surprise from the young woman, but she allowed herself to be taken in the right direction.

One by one, all five of them ducked into the crack, crowding their bodies against each other to fit. Although it was cramped and uncomfortable, nobody said a word as their mechanic predator passed right by them.

"We'd better investigate somewhere else. I don't want to spend the night in a hospital room," Velma growled, peeling herself out from between Fred and Shaggy to get a breath of air.

Shaggy and Scooby hopped out, and at the same time shook themselves off and stretching a little. Fred stepped out and merely scanned the area for any danger. Daphne flanked Velma on the left and stood in silence.

Scooby eagerly trotted towards the exit, with the others only steps behind. They walked up the trail that wound its way out of the exit and up a steep hillside. The evening rain had changed the dry soil into thick mud, in which every member of the detective crew would stumble over every moment or so.

"Okay, we need to try another approach," Daphne stated, "Going in that tunnel is too dangerous."

Shaggy nodded. "Like, yeah. Let's avoid it by getting in the van and going somewhere safe – like the pizza parlor!" The other three groaned.

"That's not what I meant," Daphne mumbled through gritted teeth.

"Follow me, gang," Fred started, motioning with his hand for the others to tail him. "I think I know a better route."

Without another word, Daphne and Velma followed, Shaggy and his dog bringing up the rear. They pressed their backs to the wall as soon as the shadow of the building had enshrouded them. Fred nodded, and the others began to follow him down the length of the building.

The mud near the base of the concrete slabs was thicker, and their feet made sickening squishing sounds every time one of them took a step.

Daphne took a step too high, upon attempting to place it down; the toe of her shoe caught a loose rock. With a shrill yelp of surprise, the redhead's foot went out from beneath her and she went tumbling into a ditch. A loud thump signaled her landing. Velma ran to the edge of the ditch and looked down at her dazed companion.

"Dangerprone Daphne. Damn it!" Fred grunted, still on the alert for danger.

Upon hearing the statement, Daphne's eyes narrowed as she struggled to stand on her own feet. She yelped as she felt the muscles in her ankle roll over the bone.

"Here, Daphne. I'll help you out," Fred replied. He and Velma each grabbed one of Daphne's forearms and hoisted her to their level.

"Look, I hate to be a drag, but I don't think I can help you out this time," Daphne murmured, not meeting eyes with Fred.

Velma and Fred sighed. "Okay," Fred told her, "We can always investigate in a couple days."

"Like, hey gang!" Shaggy called from a distance.

The others looked up to see Shaggy and Scooby in the parking lot, standing faithfully by the van.

"What're we waiting for? Let's go!" he called.

The next morning at Studio Six was painful for Daphne. She limped down the hallway towards her office, having to stop short due to straining on her right ankle. She growled to herself as it throbbed, feeling as though it was swelling more than it already was. With a sigh of relief, she gripped the handle of her office door tightly.

"What's going on, Daphne?"

Daphne turned to see Mike coming out of the lounge, a soda can in hand. Noticing her slouched posture and the way she was holding her foot above the ground, his brows furrowed.

"What happened?" he asked again.

"Well, as Fred and Velma say, Dangerprone Daphne did it again. It's quite a cruel joke. Funny at first, but now I don't really think it's a joke anymore," came a sullen response.

"You should've stayed home," Mike said softly, helping her unlock the door.

As the door swung open, Daphne nodded. "Yeah. I'm just now feeling it. For some reason I thought coming to work would help me feel better."

She emitted another yelp, then turned to examine the bruise she had earned from the fall. Indeed, the side of her ankle was swollen and painted with a variety of damaged muscle tissue and veins.

"Wow – that looks like it must've been a hell of a fall," Mike said.

"It was," Daphne managed to chuckle.

"Look, Daphne. I really don't think you should be here today."

"I'm alright, Mike."

"Are you sure? I'd feel terrible if it's broken. Please, let me take you to see a doctor."

Daphne bit her lip. She squeezed her eyes shut as her ankle throbbed for attention, then shot a pain up her calf. She gripped it and cried out.

"Okay. I'll go. Next time this happens, I'll be sure to call in!"

Mike helped her to her feet, keeping an arm around her, even while he locked the door for her. He walked slowly as Daphne limped beside him, every now and then having to lean on him for support.

"I appreciate this, Mike," Daphne smiled, looking at him with a strained, but sincere smile.

"Any time, Daphne."

Mike unlocked the passenger door of his car first. Pulling it open, her gave Daphne time to haul herself in, where she buckled up and got comfortable. He joined her on the other side, where he turned the key. As soon as the engine came alive, they pulled out of the driveway and onto the main road.


	10. Forbid Me Not

_Make mama stop cryin, cuz I need you around  
My mama she loves you, no matter what she says  
its true  
I know that she hurts you, but remember I love  
you, too_

I ran away today, ran from the noise, ran away  
Don't wanna go back to that place, but don't have  
no choice, no way  
It ain't easy growin up in World War III  
Never knowin what love could be, well I've seen  
I don't want love to destroy me like it did my  
family

Can we work it out? Can we be a family?  
I promise I'll be better, Mommy I'll do anything  
Can we work it out? Can we be a family?  
I promise I'll be better, Daddy please don't  
leave

_Pink; Family Portrait_

The slight twang of discomfort that ripped up her calf made Daphne slow to exit the exam room. Mike remained at her side, his steady gait contrasting highly to her obvious hobble.

Daphne glanced at the brace on her ankle; it itched and would be impossible to cover it up unless she wore long pants, and she frowned a little, slightly humbled due to her needy limp. She managed to smile anyway.

"I'm glad it's not broken," came Mike's silken murmur. He turned to face his companion, who was still glancing down at her injury. He patted her shoulder and grinned, "Aw, don't fuss. You'll be fine. You'll walk a little funny for a while, but sometimes a mistake can be enlightening."

Daphne looked up at him. "Enlightening? How?" Mike at that moment came into contact with her short fuse.

"Well…" he slurred in thought, "Sometimes making a mistake can help open new doors. For example, that fall most likely told you that one should never wear heels while on an exploration!"

Daphne's cheeks flushed a hint of scarlet and she jabbed his ribs with an elbow.

"Alright, you got me. I'll listen next time," Daphne chuckled, momentarily forgetting her pain, and her gait began to steady.

In the break room, Daphne and Mike were seated across from each other at their usual table, and chatting over two steaming cups of coffee. Daphne was sitting awkwardly, the brace on her ankle forcing her to stretch her leg out.

"Daphne? Where've you been? You missed the taping," Fred called from the other side of the room. He stormed towards them, the wrinkles in his face were a mix of worry and relief.

The redhead craned her neck, her jaw dropping only slightly, having been startled by the sudden bark from the doorway. "Oh! Hey, Fred. Sorry, had to run to the hospital."

"Hospital? What for?" Fred asked, fear leaping into his throat.

"Her ankle was bugging her," Mike stated.

"Why didn't you call me?" Fred asked, turning to Daphne with narrowed eyes. "I'd have taken you."

"I didn't know where you were, Fred."

"No worries, Fred. I took her there. The ankle's in a brace. It'll be tender for awhile, though."

Fred turned to the Irishman. "What? You took her?"

Mike raised his brows. "Uh, yes, I did," he replied, taken aback by the other man's cross-examining.

Fred sighed. He turned to Daphne. "Daph, that wasn't a smart thing to do."

"What? Go with Mike? And why not?" she asked.

"He could be-"

"I know, he could be dangerous. But can't almost anybody?"

"Look, you were hurt, Daph. I'd feel better if you called me or one of the others next time."

"Fred, look. You, I, and the rest of the gang pal around a lot, but we also have our own lives to tend to. I cannot expect the others to always be free to come help me. I needed help right at that moment."

"Look, there's no reason to get worked up," Mike interfered, "She's fine, and the visit's come and gone."

Fred's face scrunched angrily and turned to Mike once more.

"Look here, Lucky. I know there's something up with you, and it isn't a pot o' gold at the end of the rainbow. I want you to stay as far from her as possible!" Near the end of the statement, Fred heard his voice rise to a level he'd never heard come from his mouth; he secretly thanked the heavens that they were the only ones in the room.

Mike stood, standing solid on his feet. He stood up so abruptly that the plastic chair where he had been seated simply toppled over with a deafening clatter. Daphne remained in her seat, her pupils dilated, and wondering what would happen should she interject with the situation.

Fred found himself not at eye level, but looking up at the gardener in front of him. He kept his eyes on Mike's face, and was secretly sizing him up.

"Fred," Mike sighed, exasperation painting his weary tone, "Look, I'm not here to argue or to fight. I'm telling you, nothing happened between Daphne and I. We're friends, and as grown adults, I believe we are entitled to the right to be."

Daphne cleared her throat and stood quickly. "Shut up! Both of you! Please Fred, I'm allowed to have friends outside the gang, aren't I?"

Fred bit his lip, about to use the 'but he could be dangerous' excuse, but she had nailed him earlier with that. He shook with anger and turned to Mike.

"Stay the hell away from her. People like you have no business crossing paths with her."

Mike was grinding his teeth at this point. He felt Fred's icy stare on him the entire time. He took a deep breath and looked at the blonde man blankly, so as to not show the mixed brew of anger and confusion swimming in his mind.

Daphne nudged between the pair and shoved them apart at arm span.

"Can we just...calm down and... discuss this like civilized people!" she said slowly, shooting either man a dark stare. With one last glare at each other, both Fred and Mike sighed, and pulled up a chair. An uneasy silence reigned at the table as Daphne sat between them.

"Now," Daphne chirped, folding her hands neatly on the desk, "Fred, like I said before. I couldn't find you anywhere. Nor did it come to mind to call just _you _at the moment. I was actually going to go through the day with it."

"Alright," Fred replied, "And Mike came to help."

"Aye," Mike added, a state of relief washing over him.

"Still, Daphne. I don't want you around Mike when I'm not present," Fred stated simply. Daphne turned sharply to face him.

"Excuse me?" was her reply.

"I still don't trust him, Daphne."

"Fred, this is a friend of mine. Not a villain in a costume."

"You still don't know if the guy's a conman or not!"

Voices were rising. Soon both Daphne and Fred were out of their chairs and arguing at full volume. Mike wrinkled his thick brow and also came to stand.

"Fred! Daphne! Kill the fire! Calm down!" he bellowed.

The other two abruptly silenced, turning to watch him as he rounded the table to stand in front of them.

The fire in Fred's eyes still hadn't been extinguished. "Mike, I'm putting it bluntly. You lay one hand on her, and I'll..!"

"Look, I'm not going to hurt anyone, especially Daphne. She's a friend, and I'd like to be friends, or at least, get off on good terms, with you."

"I'm afraid that we'll never come off on good terms, Lucky."

Mike was usually a mellow, level-headed person. It was rare that the Irishman would get upset or even truly angry. But Fred's rebel on friendship with Daphne sent him over the top.

A primal yell. A pair of hands gripping the front of Fred's shirt. And a hard slam into a wall. _THUD!_

Fred gasped for breath from the force. A pair of emerald green orbs penetrated his own blue, projected from a thin face frame with crimson and wrinkled in anger. Mike's burly hands gripped tighter on the fabric, and pressed the blonde man harder to the wall.

Mike's face went pale as he heard a ring. Glancing down, he saw that Fred had a cell phone clutched in his palm. As it rang, the screen on the phone illuminated, revealing three numbers: 911.

Daphne winced as she heard the clank of handcuffs placed around Mike's wrists. The officer was mumbling the standard 'right to remain silent' speech to Mike, whom only complied with what was happening. The tall red haired man just stood perfectly still during the entire procedure as he was assisted into the back of the squad car.

Mike took a moment to glance out the window at Daphne. The glare of the glass slightly distorted her vision, but Daphne could sense the guilt he was feeling, seeping from his eyes and into hers.

"Mike-!" Daphne started to say, but the squad car drove off before it escaped her mouth.


	11. Look Now

_I'm sure that the heart I left behind still lies _

_Hidden in the heart of the deep, deep forest_

_Exhausted, without the strength to search _

_People vanish into the infinite darkness._

_If it's so small, I wonder if I can see it even now?_

_As we live on, we lose a little bit more. _

_Shrouded in falsehoods and lies,_

_We stand frozen to the spot, unable to cry out_

_Do As Infinity; Deep_ _Forest_

Fred bit his lip as he walked up behind his redheaded companion. He caught a glimpse of her face; her eyes were wide with a sense of dread. Lips sealed shut and jaw set tightly. He touched her shoulder, and the blonde found himself jumping slightly when she wrenched her shoulder from him. When Fred opened his eyes, he saw a pair of cold, glazy eyes staring into his.

"Daphne, he was going to kill me! What else should I have done? Let him do it?"

"You were the one that pissed him off! What would you have done if he kept attacking you like that? I doubt you'd have taken it for long!"

"Look, that's not the point-"

"You're right. It isn't the point. The point is that I cannot make choices of people I am allotted to associate with outside of Mystery Inc!"

An officer approached the two of them. Tipping his hat to them, he pulled out a small memo tablet and a pen. He returned his gaze to the distraught pair in front of him.

"Now, Miss… O'Kelley, I presume?" he asked. Daphne nodded.

"Mike has told me that you are a close friend of his. Is there any other evidence you have, besides the recent occurrence, that he had ever been violent?"

"No. I've never seen him lay a hand on anyone."

The officer scribbled some notes onto the pad. "Okay. Now, Fred. Was there anything that could have led up to this outburst?"

Fred paused. He clenched his teeth and looked the other way. He felt the calm but steely stare from the police officer, but nothing from Daphne, like he had suspected. Turning his head towards her, he noticed that Daphne had disappeared.

"Excuse me a moment," Fred told the officer. Blinking and scanning the room, he noticed Daphne over by the window. He took several giant steps and came to a halt at her side. He nudged her shoulder, and she promptly turned away. Fred was halfway expecting that.

"Look, Daphne, I know you're mad," he said softly.

"Fred, you don't understand. You just don't," came her response. Her voice was gentler, with less of the sharpness it had moments ago. Fred looked at her eyes, dormant and barren.

"What is there to understand?" he asked, more inquisitive than furious.

"I hate to dwell on it, and I'm afraid to tell any of the gang about this," Daphne replied, "I'd feel better if I didn't tell."

"No, I think it's the other way around."

"I have this infinite fear that my parents will be taken away again."

Seamus and Maire O'Kelley owned a small farm at the edge of town. Seamus was an immigrant from Ireland, and Maire was the product of a biracial marriage between an Englishman and a woman from the local tribes. Nonetheless, the pair were very kind, loving people. In all the times Fred had known Daphne's parents, he never once stopped and realized that they had been vacant for half of their daughter's life. And he felt horrible when he realized that he had never asked himself why.

"They were taken away?" Fred asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"When I was young. See, George and Elizabeth Blake are only my godparents. My dad was friends with George in his college days."

Fred listened when he realized that he had never heard this side of Daphne's story. "So, they're not your real parents," was the only thing he had that signaled Daphne that he was listening. Daphne only nodded.

"Yeah. At some point, Elizabeth found out that she was pregnant. Having a little one was her dream, the biggest one in the world. But, tragedy struck when she had a miscarriage. It was so complicated that she had to have an emergency hysterectomy."

"So she was completely unable to have children."

"Right. Well, this drove her into a… a madness. I remember the way she'd watch me play in the front yard. And I remember how angry she looked when my mother would join me. She was jealous, Fred. So jealous that she…"

"She what?"

"She took me away. She and George both. You know, Fred, in all the luxury I had as a girl, you have no idea how badly I wanted to just jump in the pond behind our old house."

"And, where does Mike come into this?"

"He was the only one who understood what it's like to lose someone close to you."

Fred wrinkled his brow. He looked at Daphne, who looked back at him with less anger, and more distress.

With a heavy sigh, the blonde man unclenched his fists and patted her on the back.

"Daphne, I'm not going to admit that what I did was a bad thing, but there's one thing I will do."

"Excuse me?"

Fred grinned softly and tugged her arm. "C'mon."

Daphne followed, slightly out of step. When she caught up to him, she saw the officer in front of them again.

"Are you folks ready to finish the questions?" he asked.

"Yes," said Fred, "But, perhaps you can give us an escort to the station?"


	12. Iron Bars

_When illusion spin her net  
I'm never where I want to be  
And liberty she pirouette  
When I think that I am free  
Watched by empty silhouettes  
Who close their eyes but still can see  
No on taught them etiquette  
I will show another me_

_Peter Gabriel; Solsbury Hill_

Dull footfalls echoed off of pale, concrete walls as Mike paced in the cell. He rubbed his wrists, glad that the cuffs had been removed; but his heart still pounded. He sat on the bench, which whined in meek protest to his weight. With a deep sigh, the Irishman played the previous events in his mind over and over:

The table. Talking with Daphne. Fred coming in. Arguing. Insults. Losing temper. A slam against the wall, and the arrival of the police department.

Mike lowered his head, running his hands into his hair, wringing his fingers into the locks in frustration.

_Jesus!_ He thought to himself, _Daphne's probably never going to forgive me. I hope Fred's alright; I don't want to hurt him like I had done to my own brother._

Mike felt his eyes heat up at the last thought. At that moment, Mike wondered what Aaron was thinking of him at this moment. Or perhaps, still angry at him for past occurrences? His chest knotted up; he wanted to know, but he also feared what the reply would be had he actually asked the question.

"Dear brother," Mike murmured, glancing around to make sure nobody was looking, "Please tell me there will be some light."

The resounding _CLANG!_ of a steel door made Mike jump to his feet. It was a sound that he quickly learned to fear. Bewildered, he dashed to the bars of his cell to investigate. He could only make out a few figures at the end of the hall to his immediate right. He squinted, his green eyes doing their best to catch any detail.

Even the voices were incomprehensible; they were small and confined. Even with the enormous amount of space the room allowed for the travel of sound, their discussion was still out of Mike's earshot. He growled to himself, becoming more and more aggravated. The muscles in his face scrunched up and he shook his head, and then allowed them to relax, making him look more weary than he actually was.

_Wait_, he thought. Watching the three at the end of the hall, he noticed that they were moving steadily in his direction. Shifting one foot to the other like an excited dog at a shelter, Mike sighed and managed to recompose himself by the time the voices – all of them recognizable – came in earshot of him.

"He's right here, guys," the heavyset officer said in a professional tone, leading them to the cell. He adjusted his belt and glanced briefly at Fred. "So, you're the one he went after?"

"Yes," Fred nodded.

"And you want to drop charges?" the officer replied, a hint of surprise in his voice. He merely raised his bushy eyebrows when the blonde man only nodded.

The uniformed man wandered to his desk and pulled open a drawer. He placed a thin manila folder on the light surface, then removed s few sheets of paperwork.

"What's this?" Daphne murmured coolly.

"These are notes taken on the event, pretty much. Nothing too big," came a self-assured response. With a thick index finger, he bunted a ballpoint pen in Fred's direction.

"Go see how Mike's doing," Fred instructed Daphne, "I got this under control."

Daphne bobbed her head up and down enthusiastically. She gave her cohort her usual thin smile, and then she stated, "Thanks, Fred. I appreciate it. I really do." Fred arched a brow in a somewhat playful manner and nodded.

As Fred bent down to skim the paperwork, Daphne approached the iron bars. Mike's heart raced. What was she here for? Was she angry? Were they here to press the charges? He found himself nearly choking on the lump in his throat.

"Daphne, what are you doing here?" he asked, "Did they need you here to press charges?"

"Now, why would we do that?" Daphne reassured.

Mike's jaw dropped and he eyed her wordlessly for a split second. "Wait. What are you getting at?" he asked.

"We're not pressing charges."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, Mike. I didn't bribe Fred or pay him, it was actually his idea."

Mike looked across the room at Fred, who was still analyzing the papers. He grinned softly, and felt as if he had been tremendously rewarded. With a sigh, the Irishman sent a silent prayer of thanks to Aaron.

"Perhaps you guys can get off to a better start," Daphne chuckled.

"Oh, I hope so," Mike nodded, "I actually felt like an intruder when we first met, as if I had barged in on some important meeting of some sort."

Daphne snorted playfully through her nose. "Yeah, Fred tends to get protective. Don't get mad at him, that's just how he is."

"Well, being the group leader on all those paranormal investigations would instill that instinct into anyone, I suppose."

"Good point. And very true."

Mike looked around again. Daphne, confused, attempted to follow his gaze. "Something wrong?" she asked upon failure to detect the object of his attention.

"I'm going to ask you a very personal question," he replied softly.

"Why not?" Daphne asked. "Shoot." She placed her hands on her hips and waited patiently.

Mike's mouth went dry. He cleared his throat and swallowed several times before attempting to speak. He felt Daphne's eyes on him, still waiting.

_Quit stalling, you idiot!_ Mike scolded himself. And wrinkled his brow sheepishly as he asked, "Are you… seeing anybody?" _Oh, God. Oh, Jesus Christ, that was the wrong thing to ask!_

Daphne's mouth gaped open a moment. _How the hell am I going to reply to this?_ A moment of consideration: She and Fred were merely close friends. Due to work with her small detective hobby and her job, Daphne realized that she actually hadn't much of a life despite the obvious. _Oh, dear. I should get out more._

"Actually, no I'm not," she replied. Mike smiled. "Are you?" Daphne blurted. She flinched and wanted to kick herself. _Stop thinking aloud!_ she chided.

Mike chuckled as he saw a shade of scarlet paint his companion's cheeks. "That leaves two of us, then," he said in a soft voice, as if not wanting anyone other than Daphne to hear.

"Is that an invite?" Daphne asked, repeating the low volume.

"Wow – if..if you want it to be," Mike stammered, unable to control the wide, crooked smile that lit up his features.

She leaned in, placing her hands on the bars. "Hey, keep it down," she chuckled.

Mike stood up straight and gently rubbed her knuckles. When he succeeded in attracting her immediate attention, their eyes locked.

Daphne felt as if she were unable to move, however this was not an intimidating presence. She was frozen still partially due to the fact that she _wanted_ to be.

Voices blurred out, descending into small whispers of sound in the distance. Everything else in vision seemed to melt, and it was only the two of them.

Daphne sighed when she felt Mike's fingertips rubbing the top of her hand, and she reached up with the other, timidly stroking his cheekbone. When Mike continued to gaze at her, she placed it over his collarbone.

They drew in closer and they slid their eyes shut. It was a timid move, and they hesitated when they both felt the breath of the other fall across the lower half of their faces.

Mike opened his eyes only slightly. "What is it?" His voice was soft and low, so only Daphne could hear.

Daphne smiled genuinely and replied, "I'm just nervous." Their eyes locked again, even though they were half open.

"It's only me. No need to be nervous," Mike's rough brogue reassured.

Daphne leaned closer, and they both closed their eyes. They felt no need to hesitate as their lips met in a warm, sincere kiss.


	13. Doggy Bone Sprinkles

_Nithini_ _noyana_ _Noyana_ _Noyana_ _Noyana_ _phezulu_ _Nithini_ _Noyana, noyana_ _Phezulu_ _Nina ke_ _Nehluka_ _Kuthixo_ _Ngo kona_

_Translation:_ _What do you say? Are you going?_ _Are you going to get there?_ _Are you going to get there?_ _Are you going up there?_ _What do you say?_ _Are you going? Are you going?_ _Are you going to Heaven?_ _Some of you_ _Are different_ _In the eyes of God_ _Because of your sins_

_Lebo M.; Noyana (African Chant)_

Fred rolled his eyes as he listened to the near-deafening slurps across the table as Shaggy and Scooby vacuumed down their milkshakes. He pursed his lips and thought a moment, wondering if he should mention something of a brain-freeze. Instead, he decided to allow the duo rediscover the consequences on their own.

"Never gonna learn, are you?" Velma interrupted the blond man's thoughts as she eyed the skinny individual.

Brown eyes looked up to meet the dark orbs enshrouded by the tinted lenses.

"Like, what now? First they splatter educational programming all over TV, now I'm supposed to learn something from drinking a milkshake?" Shaggy asked in a mock whine. Velma laughed heartily as the Great Dane took his owner's distraction to his advantage, pressing his muzzle against the brim of the glass and beginning to lick the glass clean.

With a sigh, Fred rose to his feet and wandered aimlessly across the lobby of the malt shop. Mike had been out for a week. Since then, the six had solved a few cases. To avoid the subject of Mike, Fred's mind turned over the week's assignments in his mind.

The zombie at the local cemetery – a drug smuggling ring.

Phantoms roaming the Japanese gardens – underground counterfeit.

The failed experiment looming in the halls of the science lab.

…And a quite obscure case that involved Hershey's Kisses and a hobo dressed as a mummy – poorly guised by a roll of toilet paper.

Fred had yet to figure that one out thoroughly.

His mind kept wandering back to Mike. Question after question flooded his mind: _Was that a wise choice? Would he try to harm anyone? What about Daphne?_

He stopped himself after the third question. He knew that it was his natural reaction to worry, especially about Daphne. But he was still grasping the concept that he didn't always need to be there to protect her. He didn't want to completely distance himself, but not be smothering. He just couldn't help it.

_I just hope everything's alright!_

Fred jumped when a hand tapped his back. Upon turning, Fred stared down at –

"Oh! Hey, Velma."

"Fred," Velma grinned, "Daphne and Mike are going to join us in a few."

"Oh, really?" Fred's spirit lightened; his suspicions of the last few moments lightened slightly.

"Yeah. Said they've got something for us."

"Oh! Do you think it could be-"

"Fred, I really don't think that anyone's going to ever find your lost collection of The National Exaggerator magazines." The bespectacled woman's voice was blunt.

"Aw, you couldn't have thrown them _all_ away!" Fred laughed, elbowing the orange-clad woman with a gentle nudge.

"No, we didn't throw them all away."

"What?"

"Yeah, some of them we put through the garbage disposal."

Before the banter could continue, the bells on the doorknob jingled and clanged, announcing a new arrival into the malt shop. The group raised their eyes to acknowledge Daphne and Mike nearing their table. Both had wide grins on their faces.

"Like, I know that look, you guys," Shaggy queried, almost nervously.

"You're up to something," Velma interjected, as she and Fred joined them.

Scooby licked the last traces of the milkshake from his lips, craning his neck to take a few sniffs at the package cradled in Mike's hands.

"Unh?" Scooby's short ears pricked up as he took another sniff. It was quickly put to a stop when Daphne's palm softly tapped his muzzle.

"Scooby, no. Wait till everyone's here," came Daphne's firm instruction.

Realizing his defeat, Scooby merely slumped back in the seat and crossed his forelegs in front of his barreled chest. The scent he knew and had smelled a thousand times, but he was unable to place his paw right on the answer at that moment.

"OK, what are you two hiding?" Fred asked. His eyes met Daphne's; perhaps she was the only one who had picked up the trace of sadness in his voice.

Silently, Daphne drew in a deep breath and let it out. Mike set the large square package in the center of the table; he found it amusing at how everyone's eyes followed the mystery box .

"We wanted to express our thanks," Mike started, "for all we've been through, for all that I have been through with you, and put you through." He paused and took a glance at Daphne, who only smiled in that way that made him melt. He knew he was doing this right as he returned his attention to the group.

"And, here's my token of gratitude." Mike reached over and took a hold of the string. With a simple tug, the knot gave way, as did the sides of the box.

A sweet aroma whooshed up and hit everyone's nostrils in a matter of seconds. Shaggy's and Scooby's eyes widened, tongues lolling from their jowls as they all beheld a two-layer cake.

Daphne, hardly able to resist the pastry in front of her, announced, "Thank you guys. We didn't know exactly what to get that suited everyone – so we had this custom made!" She paused and shot a playful glare at Velma, who at the moment had just licked a morsel of chocolate frosting from her finger.

The younger woman cocked her head. "What?"

Daphne's glare melted into a smile. "Dig in."

Shaggy couldn't help but laugh. "Like, look! There's candied flowers on the side! They look just like the Mystery Machine!" He held up one of the tarts and shoved it into his mouth.

Velma sank the knife into the cushiony form of the cake. She licked her lips. "Jinkies! My favorite flavor! Chocolate cake with chocolate filling!"

Scooby giggled as he pointed at the multicolored doggie bone sprinkles that dappled the frosting. "Rooby racks!"

Fred burst into laughter. Pointing to the inside of the cake, he chortled, "It's filled with gummy bears!"

Daphne shrugged. "Told ya it was custom made!"

"Fred, let's face it. We all know of your notorious gummy bear addiction," Velma smiled, shoveling a forkful of cake into her mouth. "Not bad! Not bad at all!"

"It was Mike's idea," Daphne added, gesturing to her redheaded beau at her side. "He remembered what we all ordered at the shop and decided to mix it all into one."

"Well, where's your parts of it, then?" Velma asked, arching a brow.

"We got it for you. Not us, Velma," Mike said softly.

Fred glanced up at Mike; he hadn't noticed that all his suspicions of the other man had disappeared. In fact, Mike was no longer a threat. Just an average guy. The blond man thought back for only a moment, to the fight in the cafeteria. And he thought, for that mere moment, that he was glad that it had happened.

"Mike?" Fred asked, looking up.

Mike furrowed his brow worriedly. _Uh oh_, he thought. He exhaled a breath unnoticeably and turned, with a grin, to his new companion. "Yeah, Fred?"

"Thanks."


End file.
